


A Lesson in Humility

by shockfactor



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Old Friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:26:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6531133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shockfactor/pseuds/shockfactor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Maxson is about to make a mistake, and the last person he ever expected to see appears to set him straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lesson in Humility

**Author's Note:**

> According to my math, the Lone Wanderer was 18 when he left the vault. He was born in 2258. Fallout 4 takes place in 2287. Therefore, if he is alive during Fallout 4, he's 29 years old. Maxson would be 9 years younger, at 21. I estimate Danse to be a little older than Lone- probably about 32 or 33.

"MAXSON!"

The Elder of the East Coast Brotherhood has heard that voice before. No matter, Danse- and that traitor- must die. Synths are synths, no matter what skin they wear. All he had to do was-

"MAXSON!"

Shut up! All he had to do was kill them. No more threat to the Brotherhood, no more worrying about a traitor in their midst, no more-

"ARTHUR, YOU FUCKING LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

That can no longer be ignored. 

"Come forward. I'm not taking my eyes off of these two." he demands.

"They won't shoot you, Arthur. Turn around."

So he did. Standing before him, for the first time in five years, was Liam. Once, they had called him the 'Lone Wanderer'. He had come from a Vault, looking for his father, and run headfirst into the Brotherhood. He was young, only 18 then, and Arthur was 10. He helped the Brotherhood whenever he could, 'fighting the good fight' he called it. He was very much enamored with Sarah Lyons, calling her 'the most beautiful woman in the world', and constantly hitting on her. 

Time hardened him.

Although he never lost his good nature, he became much more attuned to killing. He almost dehumanized the Enclave, calling them 'cans' or 'Amerinazis' or something similar. Super Mutants and Ghouls were different- for some reason, he had no problem with them.

He was there when Owyn Lyons died. He cried as if he had lost his own father- Owyn had, to an extent, replaced his own. He and Sarah had started a simple 'friends with benefits' relationship, with talk of possibly moving on to more serious things.

She was bumped off because her politics seemed too 'dangerous' to the other Elders, who suddenly cared about their little Exiles.

Liam suddenly became fragile, like a broken toy soldier. Those people he once viewed as demons became so human to him that he could hardly lift his gun. Those vibrant green eyes lost their shine, and that spiky red hair seemed to grow ragged, dirty, and more unkempt. Arthur slowly found himself losing respect for the man.

Now, 5 years after they parted- Liam renouncing his rank of Knight Captain and walking north- he was back. At the worst time.

"What happened to you, kiddo?" He asked, those green eyes... were they watering? No, they were firm. Perhaps it was a trick of the light. 

"I saw the truth, Wanderer-"

"You know my name, Arthur."

"I will not address you as if we were equals. I am an Elder."

"In name only."

Now Maxson was enraged, turning his gun on the man he once called his friend. "DO NOT TREAT ME LIKE A CHILD!"

"Arthur, you and I both know that's not what I intend," Liam answered, calm. His red hair lifted a little in the breeze, the thick scruff on his face betraying a long, uncomfortable hiatus from a good razor blade. The '101' on that jumpsuit he wore was faded, but visible, underneath his Regulator jacket. "I heard you were coming here. Some of your men still respect me."

"That comes as a shock, considering you betrayed us."

"Name one time that I turned Serenity* on you. Name one, and I'll let you shoot all three of us."

Arthur was forced to acquiesce. 

"Now, listen to me. I don't know either of these people. But I've heard. I've heard about a man named Danse, who's busted his ass for you, killed people for you, acted like your damn hatchet man because no one else wanted to, and just so happened to be a Synth. Give me a good reason why that's such a bad thing."

"He's obviously been sent to infiltrate the Brotherhood and destroy us from within, it's probably in his programming!" Arthur retorted, gun still level with Liam's head. Yet, the Wanderer was so calm, even, poised. 

"Then why would he have killed other Synths? He's killed anyone you've asked him to kill, and he'd probably kill himself if you asked him to. And what about this woman? She's done everything you've asked, too! From day one!"

"She's obviously an Institute-"

"SHUT UP ABOUT THE GOD DAMNED INSTITUTE! ADMIT THAT YOU'RE WRONG!"

Arthur's firing hand was shaking now. Memories of the time that he and this trai- this  _man_ had spent together. The days on the shooting range- both hands on the grip, right eye over the middle post, 155 degrees, right index finger on the trigger- the times telling stories -that one time when he killed a deathclaw with nothing but a Nuka-Cola, some Abraxo, a cherry bomb, and a rusty razor- and his own moral Aesops -that Synth in Rivet City that just wanted to be free- and he realizes that  _maybe he's right_.

No.

He turns and fires at Danse. He'll deal with Liam later.

A single bolt hits the woman in the chest. She doesn't cry out, or groan- she just falls into the Synth-Danse's- arms. He doesn't say a word. Danse is too shocked. Betrayed.

He won't do anything.

Serenity fires twice. The first is a bullet through the hand, forcing his pistol out. The second is to his right leg, and that one sends him falling to the ground. He catches himself, and waits for his inevitable death.

How unlike a Maxson to die on his knees, shot from behind.

But Liam walks past him, Doctor's Bag in hand.

Why?

Why not finish your enemy?

* * *

 

Fast Forward.

The Prydwen has fallen, and Maxson stands with a brave few souls against the Minutemen. 

He sees Liam first.

An easy kill.

But it isn't. Because from the ramparts comes Danse, a look of determination so RAW in his eyes that he cannot deny he fears it. He raises his rifle against the man he once called his Elder, and his friend. He isn't wearing power armor, but instead is wearing the coat that denotes a general- the coat that belonged to his dead friend. He carries his friend's rifle- in passing conversation, she called it 'Freedom Cry'.

The first shot kills Moone. A bullet straight through the heart, 50. cal. No surviving that.

The second is from Liam, surprisingly, and it ends Graham's dreams of becoming a Paladin with a rail spike through the skull.

The third comes again from Danse and beheads Gunard.

The fourth , from Liam, shatters Maxson's own kneecap.

The fifth , from Danse, forcibly removes Hagen's right arm. He slowly bleeds to death next to his Elder.

Danse is only meters away from Maxson. He raises the Final Judgement, but a rail spike renders it inoperable. Danse is now in front of him. The barrel of the gun is cold against his forehead.

He won't give him the satisfaction of seeing fear. He won't look at that filthy Synth.

"Elder Maxson... did you ever think it would come to this?"

He will not answer.

"When Amanda stepped between you and I, she knew she would die. She didn't care. She believed that I, a... a Synth... was worth saving. Despite what you told her. And despite what she told me, I believe you are, as well."

"Don't patronize me, Danse."

"I'm not patronizing you, Elder. I am giving you a chance to make peace before you must atone for all the sins you have committed. Either in this life, or the next."

"Do not call me Elder. You lost that privilege long ago."

He feels an urge to look up at him, and sees the last emotion he would expect from Danse now.

Regret.

"I wish this had not happened."

Maxson spits at his feet. 

"Then you should have died."

The railway spike pierces his skull, and there is nothing more.

* * *

 

"General?"

Danse sighs.

"I am not your General."

Preston folds his arms. Danse can hear Piper in the background, writing something. Hancock is tripping, as usual, and Cait? Cait is long dead. At least, it feels long ago.

"Then who's going to lead us?"

Danse chuckles. 

"You can figure that out."

Danse sheds the coat of the Minuteman, and walks out of the Castle, and far away from Boston. He ended up going back to Rivet City.

He figured that was the closest thing he had to home.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> * I ended up keeping my 10mm from the Vault all the way through the game. I called it 'Serenity'.


End file.
